Or I'll like Keith.

This question hovered in my mind all night, keeping me awake. When Keith sleeps with me, don't ask me how many hours I slept. It's better in minutes than an hour. I don't know. After sleeping for a while, I woke up with a start, because my subconscious mind would make me dream of being hit by it on my nipple. It's almost dawn. It's time to go to work. Now I know hell is within my reach. I have a headache from lack of sleep all night. He was so sleepy that even Keith noticed it himself.

"Are you all right, Gwent?" He asked. I...